At seventeen, I left my family and the sheltered world of our fundamentalist Christian community. Although still a child, I was soon working three jobs, going to school, and finding a place to live. I didn't fit in anywhere. At parties, I didn’t know anything about TV or music – I couldn’t have conversations. My religion taught that sex was sinful and women should be subservient and modest; I wore lots of layers to hide my body. I was terrified of men taking advantage of me; that, I'd been told, is what men did in the real world.
Living in survival mode, I relied on interactions that were transactional. I wasn't someone who would use people, but I saw relationships as “I give you something, and then you give me something.” There was never the luxury of receiving anything by grace or through an offering of love. Everything had to have a purpose.
At 21, I married a worldly older man with a sexy British accent. He became a good friend and took me to live in other countries. We were essentially running away from our past traumas, and I was fortunate to have someone to escape with. My life was transformed, and I had a successful career as well. But we never learned to really communicate with each other. He cheated on me numerous times and ended up leaving me for someone else.
When we divorced, I was just turning thirty. I was obese. I suspected I didn't know how to love properly. I lost 100 pounds and started dressing to show off my body. An unconventional relationship taught me how to love and be loved. Then, I was involved in a shooting, which left me with severe PTSD, adding to the tendency to disconnect from my body when I was overwhelmed by emotions.
I started dating a man who was kind to me, and I wanted to make it work with him. Scott was monogamous and wanted to have a typical marriage and kids. After a while, I felt smothered by him, but I didn't know how to communicate my needs. I started going to a relationship coach, and he suggested Orgasmic Meditation.
I went to a talk about OM—Orgasmic Meditation by a woman who impressed me with her confidence and curvy, opulent body, unlike the skinny supermodel ideal. I saw myself in her, and I wanted that kind of charisma. To see someone representing those qualities up front in a warm, loving way made me want to understand the potential of Orgasmic Meditation.
When my boyfriend and I tried OM, we both felt clumsy. He tried to get the stroking technique down, but I didn't feel he was listening to my body. We ended up frustrated. I figured it was probably normal for the first time, but he got upset and didn't want to do it again. Soon after, we broke up.
A new chapter opened for me. I was OMing four times a week, with different people. My first new OM partner was 84. He was such a loving person. I remember being moved, sensing a connection with humanity. Age doesn't matter. We're here to show each other love.
At that point, I was still pretty shut off from my body. I didn't feel pleasure, but Orgasmic Meditation brought me the warmth of connection.
The OM container, which lays out the steps to be followed, helped me feel safe and comfortable while OMing with a man. I like the grounding step near the beginning when the stroker presses on my thighs. It is a moment where a man acknowledges me and also acknowledges my genitals, as if saying, “Can I do this practice with you?” No one had ever shown me that kind of respect before.
I learned to talk to a man directly by asking for adjustments. If the stroking wasn't feeling right, I could say, “I want you to move a little to the left.” The ability to communicate so simply was potent. I also liked the step at the end where the stroker applied pressure to my genitals in an overall way. It felt grounding and calming.
The whole container fortified me. The sense of safety helped me go farther into states of euphoria because I knew there would be a place to return to. With my history of disassociation, I always wondered if I would be able to come back to earth. The clearly defined steps of the container, especially that final grounding move, reassured me that someone would hold the space for me.
Getting in touch with my body has enabled me to feel great joy and pain, the whole spectrum of human experience. Compared to the past, I feel more capable and resilient in those darker places. My body no longer has to be on high alert as I move through the world. I can also connect with people in a way that's not all about talking. I can sense the meaning behind people's words and listen clearly to people when I'm at peace with my body.
I've started a new career as an herbalist, and I spend a lot of time in the forest, harvesting plants and connecting with the plant world. I love the feeling of connecting with nature and just feeling my body be part of things.
